Kurt of the Brotherhood
by Knightcrawler
Summary: Kurt is ordered to leave his home in Bavaria, and travel to America, to meet with his biological mother and the Brotherhood of Evil mutants. While he initially dislikes everything about the new life that was forced upon him, he does grow to like the X-Men, particularly a young female with the ability to phase through objects...
1. Chapter 1

Kurt of the Brotherhood

_Prologue – Kurt of Bavaria_

Kurt really did not want to leave his home in Bavaria and travel all the way across the Atlantic to America. It was also becoming clearer and clearer by the minute that he did not have a choice in the matter. He stood at the door way, listening as his parents talked in hushed tones to the strange man that was going to take him away from everything he had ever known, everything he had ever loved. He was still hoping against hope for a miracle, that something extraordinary would happen that would allow him to stay. So far, the miracle had not been forthcoming, and time for it to occur was rapidly running out. He sighed, pulled at the huge overcoat that disguised his true form in an absent-minded manner, and leaned it closer to try to listen in to what his parents were actually saying.

It was no use, they were using hushed tones, but they seemed resigned. The trouble had all started about six weeks ago, when that tall, blue, red-haired woman had come into his home and into his life, telling him that she was his mother. There had been lots of discussion, loads of paper work, and two blood tests, and almost before Kurt knew what was happening, it had been confirmed that yes, she was indeed his biological mother. Kurt had always known that he was adopted, and had never really minded, although sometimes, during one of his rare rows with his parents, he had dreamed that his real parents would come along and take him away to live a life of luxury elsewhere. His brothers and sisters – also adopted – had confided in him that they had felt the same way. Still, now that some version of that playful fantasy seemed like it might be coming true, Kurt found that all he really wanted to do was to stay with his mother and father and his siblings, and live out his entire life in Bavaria. Fantasies could be fun, but only if they remained fantasies; reality could never match the fantasy inside his head.

There had been a court case, but Kurt had not been able to attend, due to his being blue and furry, and largely unable to participate in wider society because of this. The blue woman had argued that, since Kurt was her son, he should spend time with her. Kurt's parents had argued that, since they had raised Kurt from infancy, he should be able to stay with them. There had been lots of shouting, apparently, but eventually, a compromise was reached – Kurt would go with the blue woman and spend a few months with her in America. After this time, if he so chose, he would be allowed to return home to Bavaria, and, again, if he so chose, he would have the right never to see the blue woman again. Kurt did not like the decision, and not least because he had had so little input in it. That was the trouble with being sixteen; you knew your own mind, and what was best for yourself, but others, older, and convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were wiser, seemed convinced that you did not know your own mind about anything important. It was frustrating.

And so now there was that strange, old man, talking quietly with his parents about him leaving them behind for the new land across the ocean. And the miracle that he had longed to happen, the miracle that would have allowed him to stay, had not happened, and Kurt knew that he could not put off meeting with the man much longer. His parents had said that he had wanted to say goodbye to his siblings, and this had been the truth, but that had been over and done with far too quickly for Kurt's liking, with Kurt promising them that he would bring back all sort of American memorabilia for them by the time he was scheduled to return, a week before Christmas. The whole time that Kurt had been talking to them, he had been trying to hold back tears, trying to act like his normal, playful self.

He still felt like crying as he slowly opened the door, and took a step forward, feeling more nervous than he had ever felt before.

The old man turned around and smiled at him, "Ah Kurt," he said, his tone not unfriendly, "are you ready to go on your journey?"

No, thought Kurt, no I'm not, I'm not ready and I'll never be ready, and I don't want to go. Kurt merely sighed, looked down at the floor, and nodded once. Then he looked up quickly, a last minute hope suddenly occurring to him, "I cannot travel by plane," he said, "I look so strange, I could not get through all of the security, not when I look the way that I do."

The old man gave him a sympathetic smile, "Do not worry about that, Kurt," he said, "I have a surprise for you waiting outside." Then he beckoned Kurt to follow him, and Kurt could see no other option but to follow the old man to the new land, and away from everything that he had ever known.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1 – Kurt of the Atlantic_

**Author's notes – yay, reviews! Thank you for reviewing and/or adding my story to your favourites. Whyiseverythingtaken – I sincerely hope so, now I've more or less figured out what is going to happen in later chapters. Liz and shadowrider97 – as requested, here is the next section of this fic – enjoy!**

Kurt followed the old man in silence as he led him outside. There, on the grass, was a small, two-seater black plane. The old man gestured for Kurt to get into the passenger side, and Kurt could see that he had little choice in the matter. He stepped inside as the old man got into the side with all of the fancy controls in front of him. Kurt stared at them for a moment, not entirely trusting either the plane or the man who clearly intended to fly it. The old man smiled at Kurt a little uncertainly. "I know that this is all new to you, Kurt, and I don't blame you for feeling uncertain about your future. Your mother and I do only wish that which is best for you," he said.

Kurt stared out of the window of the plane, and said nothing. If you really wanted what was best for me, he thought, as he watched the plane leave the ground, then you would leave me alone to get on with my life with my real family, rather than dragging me half way across the world.

They flew in silence for a long while, and Kurt watched his house, then Germany, then the whole of Europe, gradually vanish into the distance. He turned his attention back to the way that they were flying, staring at the sun, which did not seem to be setting. Well, we are travelling west, he reasoned, towards the setting sun. It still felt slightly weird, though, staring at the sun which did not seem to be moving at all.

The old man broke the silence, "My name is Magneto, and I am a friend of your real mother," he said.

No you're not, thought Kurt defiantly, my real mother is back in Bavaria, my real mother is the woman who raised me for as long as I can remember. You might well be a friend of the woman who gave birth to me, but she is not my real mother, and never will be.

They flew on in silence for a while longer. Kurt stared down at the Atlantic passing below them, more water than he had ever seen before, or even imagined. For the first half hour or so it had been quite mesmerising, staring down at the ocean, with the sun's rays reflecting upon the surface, but after a while it had become rather repetitive. He turned his attention back to the old man, who was staring ahead of him, but gave him a quick sideways glance. "You have a right to be curious, to feel disquiet at what you are being ordered to do," he said, sounding understanding, "now would be a good time to ask questions, since I am, in a sense, your captive audience, as I am yours."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. Maybe I don't want to talk to the person who has ordered me away from my home, has that occurred to you, Mr Magneto, he thought definitely. Instead, he decided that he would try a different method, "I…no speak the English…good…" he said, wondering if that would work.

"Really?" asked Magneto, sounding sceptical, "that is interesting, your parents informed me that you were practically fluent." He gave Kurt a quick uncertain look, but shrugged as he turned his attention back to the controls, "_Then, if you would prefer, we will converse in German_," he said, speaking perfect German.

Kurt cursed mentally. So he would not be able to get away from being interrogated by the old man by pretending that he lacked skills in English. He folded his arms, and glared at him for a moment. You're such a hypocrite, Magneto, he thought to himself, you're acting like you want us to be friends, when you are the one who has ordered me away from my old life. Still, perhaps now was a good time to talk to him, as he probably would not get another such opportunity once they arrived at their destination. "_It's just… just that you don't know what it is like, to be forced away from your home, forced to go to a strange place, away from your friends and family, and everything that you have ever loved,"_ he said.

"_Yes_," Magneto replied, "_yes I do_."

Kurt stared at him for a long moment. His face was stern, and gave nothing away, but there was a determination in those eyes, and Kurt got the distinct impression that the old man had seen rather too much in his long life, much of it unpleasant. He isn't lying, Kurt thought to himself, not about that anyway. And I don't think it would be right to question him further about it, however angry I might be feeling towards him right now. "_But why now_?" he asked, "_I mean, after all of this time, why has my mother only wanted to meet with me now_?"

"_That, Kurt, is a very good question,"_ Magneto replied, and was silent for a moment, as though considering carefully the best way to answer him, "_there have been…developments recently_," he spoke slowly, as though choosing every word with the necessary precision to tell Kurt just enough to satiate his curiosity, but not enough to inform him of too much too soon, "_mutants have long had to hide themselves away from the rest of society for their own safety, but there was…an episode recently…where the existence of mutants was made public. This has led to feelings of concern for our safety_," he cast a quick look at Kurt, "_your safety_," he added, "_where you will be more likely to live and thrive if you are with your own kind. And of course you are old enough now to be able to understand the complexity of the situation, something your younger self may not have been able to do. There are those who wish to do us harm, and sometimes the only way to prevent them from doing so is to attack first, before our enemies get the chance to harm our kind. I am not sure that you would have been able to have understood the complexity of this situation before reaching the age that you are now_."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. I am not stupid, Magneto, he thought. You're saying that you're the villain, but trying to make it out that you are the hero. "_So you are a terrorist, you mean_?" he asked, watching the old man's face carefully.

Magneto sighed, "_It is true that your mother and I have been forced to take…morally questionable decisions in the past_," he said carefully, "_some…propaganda might indeed have labelled us as terrorists, but sometimes you do have to break a few eggs if you are to make omelettes, as the saying goes. Nothing valuable is ever achieved without some level of sacrifice, and this is especially true for mutant freedom_."

"_People are not omelettes_," Kurt replied, staring at him angrily, "_and innocent people being killed is not just an unfortunate event, like getting your clothes dirty when you play in the mud. You're talking about real people here, with their wants and hopes and dreams_," he folded his arms across his chest, and waited for a long moment for Magneto to reply.

They flew on in silence for a while, and just when Kurt was sure that Magneto was not going to reply, so the old man finally seemed to formulate his answer, "_We will do everything in our power to limit the number of innocents who are killed. But our freedom cannot be compromised, ultimately it is us against them. Our kind must come first, and I will put their safety above all else, no matter what_."

"_And just who is this 'us' you keep going on about_?" Kurt demanded, "_How many mutants are there in America, anyway_?"

"_That is not an easy question to answer_," replied Magneto, "_so many of our kind have had to hide for their own safety, that it is almost impossible to estimate how many of our kind there are, in America or elsewhere. Even Charles Xavier has admitted that there are likely to be mutants that he cannot locate, for even his powers are limited. But it is likely that mutants are on every continent, except perhaps Antarctica, and estimates have suggested that as many as one in ten people could have some form of mutant power or ability. I cannot be more precise than that_."

"_And just who is this Charles Xavier_?" asked Kurt. Then, just to see how the old man would react, he added, "_Is he your boyfriend_?"

The old man cast him another sideways look, "_A most…interesting hypothesis that you have come up with there_," he said, again choosing his words carefully, "_tell me, Kurt, if he is or was, would you care one way or the other_?"

"_No_," Kurt replied, "_I don't care what a couple of consenting old men get up to in the privacy of their own home, as long as they don't expect me to watch or to get involved_."

Magneto gave him another quick look. Again, it seemed as if he was choosing his words carefully, and it was a long moment before he spoke, "_Charles Xavier…is a brilliant man_," he said, "_academically at least, I have known none that could equal his abilities. But he is, has always been, something of an idealist, who cannot always understand the complexity of the situation, who does not always realise that there must be sacrifices if freedom for our cause is ever to be attained. But I was…still am, in awe of his abilities, and there are ways in which we were, in the past, closer to each other than either of us ever were to our respective wives_."

You never give a straight answer to anything, do you? thought Kurt, although admittedly that was rather a private matter, and was not one that Magneto necessarily felt like talking about. Kurt looked down at the ocean, and towards where it met the sky. They continued flying westwards, like a tiny insect on a blue blanket. I could try to teleport, Kurt thought to himself, as he stared at the water below them, although he was fairly sure that it would not be a good idea to teleport from a moving vehicle. Besides, where would he go? There was just so much water below, it stretched on in all directions, seemingly going on forever. Kurt had never seen a body of water bigger than a large lake before. And the Pacific was even bigger, he thought, half a world practically, or the size of a small planet. He stared down at the water below him for a long moment, watching the sunlight as it played upon the water's surface. It was probably freezing, anyway, and he would need to be rescued by the enigmatic old man, if he tried anything stupid. He sat back, and stared ahead of himself defiantly. No, that was a stupid idea. Besides, he had told his parents – his real parents back in Bavaria – that he would email them when he reached America, which meant that he had to reach America in order to do that. There would be plenty of time for figuring out more about Magneto when they reached land.

"_Get some sleep, Kurt_," said Magneto, not unkindly, "_America is several hours behind Germany, so you are likely to feel some level of jetlag when we finally make it over the Atlantic. It would be a good idea to get some sleep now, while you have a chance to rest_."

"_I don't trust you_," Kurt replied, although in truth he did feel a bit sleepy, since he had not been able to get any sleep the night before, as he had been worrying about this encounter, this trip, "_how do I know that you will not do anything bad to me while I sleep, if I were to fall asleep here and now?_"

"_If I had wanted to harm you, I could have done so long before now_," Magneto told him, "_in any case, you are a mutant, like me, and I have devoted my life to protecting our kind. I would gain nothing from harming you, and would lose much, since your real mother will be wanting to see that you are safe and well_."

She's not my real mother, Kurt thought again, and never will be, no matter what you say. He stared down at the water once more. It was quite fascinating, watching it speeding away underneath them. He turned his attention back to Magneto, still not trusting him. Still, Magneto did make a valid point, and Kurt did feel tired. Maybe getting a few hours of sleep would not be such a bad idea after all. He felt himself slowly drift off to sleep, as the water continued to flow underneath him, and he continued to make his way westwards, towards the unknown.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 2 - Kurt of the Brotherhood Boarding House_

**Author's notes – yay, more reviews! Merry Christmas (or other seasonally appropriate holiday season). **_**Thefourfriends03**_** – as requested, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!**

Kurt was awoken by violet light suddenly entering his consciousness, and a quiet beeping sound. He rubbed his eyes, and turned to Magneto, giving him a questioning look. The old man smiled at him reassuringly. "_It is nothing to worry about, Kurt_," he said calmly, "_that merely means that we cannot be detected by normal surveillance in America, which will help us to avoid answering awkward questions. We are now in American airspace," _he added.

Kurt gave him another questioning look, "_Legally_?" he asked.

Magneto smiled at him, "_Legally enough_," he replied.

Kurt sighed, and stared down below him. So I'm in the wrong continent, the wrong time zone, with a dubiously sane companion, and quite possibly here illegally. In a country that still has the death penalty and is potentially hostile towards mutants. Wonderful. No wonder Mum and Dad wanted me to contact them as soon as I reached safety.

"_We will be landing soon_," Magneto told him, "_get your bags and other belongings_."

"_Are we going to go through customs and all that legal stuff_?" Kurt asked nervously.

"_Why, do you want to_?"

"_No, not particularly_," Kurt admitted.

"_I will be visiting Xavier soon after we land, to talk to him about the trouble with the HDL, I will get all of your necessary papers then, so it will be clear to anyone who asks that you are in America for the purpose of studying, and spending time with relatives. Do not worry about that_."

So I am quite possibly an illegal alien, thought Kurt irritably. "_What are the HDL_?" he asked.

"_The Human Defence League_," Magneto replied, "_I have learnt from bitter experience to be wary of any group that has 'defence' in its title; this is, more often than not, their excuse for attack, rather than defence. And the HDL are concerned with, as they put it, protecting real humanity from the threat of the mutant problem. What that really means is that they think that mutants should be controlled, that we are by nature a danger, and that we should therefore be watched, monitored and appropriately dealt with whenever we so much as put a foot out of line. Up until recently, they have been a minority group, not a serious threat, but since the existence of mutants has been made public, they have gained increasing support. I am hoping that Xavier can provide me with support to combat this hate group_."

Kurt sighed, and stared out of the window again. So you've ordered me here, away from my home, to come to a country where people hate mutants. This just gets better and better, he thought bitterly.

They landed on a grassy area, outside of what looked like either a small mansion, or a large house. Kurt stared up at it uncertainly. At least there did not seem to be anyone else around right now; he really did not want to have to deal with anyone who hated mutants, since he was so obviously a mutant, especially if they happened to be a member of this HDL. Kurt grabbed his bags, and then put on his large coat, which covered him up completely. It was better not to take chances, he thought, looking around nervously. Surely no one would attack him when he was with Magneto? Still, it was best to be sure.

Magneto got out of the plane, and helped Kurt with his bags. Then he led him towards the building in front of them, which Kurt noticed, from the sign outside, was the Brotherhood Boarding House. It was a lot bigger than he had imagined, much bigger than his home back in Bavaria, and slightly imposing. Still, he was glad to get inside, since that meant that he could not be seen by prying eyes, especially the prying eyes of these HDL members. "_How am I going to manage, Magneto_?" he asked quietly, "_Looking like this, when there are those here who hate everything that I am_?"

"_Don't worry about that, Kurt_," Magneto replied, "_your safety is paramount. There is a way in which you can be protected, until the day when mutant supremacy reigns supreme_."

Kurt gave him a sceptical look, as they entered the hallway of the big house. Magneto merely smiled at him, "_You're room is number six, follow me upstairs_." He said, helping Kurt to carry his bag up the tall staircase.

Kurt looked in the rooms as he passed them. They looked…lived in was probably the politest way to put it. Clothes were hung over the back of chairs, or on the floor. There was a slight unpleasant odour from one of the rooms he passed, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust, as Magneto led him to the far bedroom at the end of the hallway. Kurt was slightly wary of what might be inside, but was surprisingly pleased when he entered the room. The room was bigger than the other bedrooms he had passed on the way up here, and much neater. There was a comfortable looking bed by the window, a wooden wardrobe by the corner of the room, a small wooden desk with a chair opposite one wall, a tall mirror by the desk, and even a small television in the other corner. It was much bigger than his room back home, and it did not look like he would need to share it with anyone else. But it was becoming increasingly clear that this was a house with many occupants, which should not have really surprised him, he thought, since this house was obviously much bigger than would be required for just his mother and himself. He put his suitcase down in the centre of the room, and then turned back to Magneto. "_It's…nice…" _he said, and was unable to keep the surprise out of his voice, as he took off his coat and put it over the back the chair.

Magneto nodded, "_This will be your room for the next few months. It is the largest of all of the bedrooms, with the exception of your mother's. Now, as I said, there is something which will protect you from all who would want to do you harm_." He walked over to the desk, and picked up what looked like a sports watch, which he examined critically, before smiling, "_Ah good, it is fully charged_," he said.

Kurt took a step towards him, and examined the watch. It had a number of intricate buttons on it, but otherwise did not look very different from any of the other watches that he had ever seen. Magneto handed it to him, and he accepted it with grateful confusion, "_I'm not sure that I understand," _he admitted.

"_Put it on your wrist, Kurt, and everything will become clear_," Magneto said kindly.

Kurt continued to give him an unsure look, as he put the watch on his wrist, as requested. No sooner had he done so, than there was a slight tingly sensation, and he looked down at his hand.

It had changed colour, and had four fingers and a thumb.

It was no longer blue and furry, but was almost the same colour as Magneto's skin. He stared up at Magneto uncertainly.

"_Look at yourself in the mirror_," said Magneto, smiling at him.

Kurt took a couple of steps towards the mirror, and stared at himself in the mirror.

At least, he assumed that it was himself. It looked…sort of like himself, or like he would have looked if he was not blue and furry. He looked normal. He examined himself carefully, turning his head this way and that, and pulling faces at the mirror. The mirror pulled faces back, but did not show his pointed teeth.

"_The day will come, perhaps sooner than you expect, when you will no longer have to hide everything that you are_," said Magneto kindly, "_but until that day, this watch will hide your uniqueness, will allow you to travel easily without having to endure unwanted attention, or worse_."

Kurt grinned, as his reflection grinned back. His family had always been kind towards him, but they had also limited his movements, fearing for his safety, which had led to Kurt feeling frustrated that he was so much more restricted than his brothers and sisters, while still understanding the necessity for that restriction. Suddenly, for the first time in his memory, that restriction did not apply; he could go anywhere, do anything, and no one would mind, or even notice. Kurt felt almost drunk with the thought of suddenly having so much freedom.

"_Open your suitcase_," Magneto told him.

Kurt looked away from the mirror, and walked over to his suitcase. He opened it, and showed the contents to Magneto. There was nothing particularly interesting in there; just some clothes, a few books and some writing materials. Magneto pointed to a green jumper. "_Point your watch at that, and then press the yellow button_," he said.

Kurt did so. Suddenly, it looked as though he was wearing the green jumper. He laughed, and did the same to a couple of other items of clothing. It appeared as if he was wearing them. He went over to the mirror once more, and examined his disguised form carefully. "_This watch will give you a level of freedom you could have only imaged back in Bavaria_," said Magneto, "_it will enable you to go to school and socialise and do the normal things that teenagers do_."

"_Thank you_," said Kurt sincerely, "_I'm sure that this will help me a lot_."

Magneto nodded, and handed him another, identical watch, that was inside a small black box, which Kurt supposed must be some form of charger. "_Always keep at least one of these fully charged_," Magneto said, "_They are your protection while you are here. In addition to their unique capabilities, they are also perfectly normal sports watches, shock and water resistant, so there should be no reason for you to be out in public without wearing one_."

Kurt nodded, and placed the charger containing the spare on the desk. He then looked up to Magneto uncertainly, "_I told my parents that I would email them when I reached America, so that they don't worry about my safety_," he said, "_is there somewhere with internet access around here_?"

"_Follow me downstairs_," Magneto instructed, and Kurt did as he was asked. At the front of the building there was a small room that seemed to be a cross between a study and a library, with bookshelves along one wall, and a computer on a table by the window. Magneto booted up the machine, and then gave Kurt a curious look, as he picked up a pair of pencils.

Kurt sighed, "_I can't type properly using my fingers," _he explained,_ "they're too thick, I end up pressing three or four keys at a time. But I've got quite good at typing using pens or pencils to hit the keys_," he added.

Magneto nodded, "_That is just one of thousands of little ways in which the world is made, not for our kind, but for those that lack our talents_," he said, "_when the new world order has come into being, the old order will be reversed, and they shall at last realise what it feels like to live in a world not designed to accommodate their needs_."

Kurt gave him a slightly worried look, "_It's fine, it just takes a little longer, that's all_," he said, as he sat down at the keyboard and began to type. It was slightly annoying that it took so long, but Kurt had learned to adjust. He simply told his family that he had arrived safely, that what he had seen of America so far seemed nice, although he had not seen much of it so far. He then wrote that he had been given a way to hide his mutant form, and that he would contact them again soon. He sent the email, and turned back to Magneto. "_They're probably asleep right now_," he said, looking out of the window at the afternoon sun. It would be night back in Germany; it would be tomorrow. He was on the wrong continent, the wrong time zone, further away from anyone who had ever loved him than he had ever been before. That thought made him suddenly feel incredibly lonely.

"_Are you okay, Kurt_?" Magneto asked, sounding concerned.

Kurt merely nodded, "_Just jetlagged I guess_," he said, "_I think I will catch up on some sleep now, if that is okay with you._"

Magneto gave him a sceptical look; then seemed to relent, "_Very well Kurt, if that is how you feel. I will be at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, if you need to contact me. Here is a map of the immediate vicinity_," he handed a map to Kurt, who examined it briefly, "_your mother and the other inhabitants of this boarding house will still be at school for the next few hours. Perhaps it would be best for you to get some sleep now, before they return home_."

Kurt nodded, "_If that's okay. I'd just like to get some sleep, unpack, have shower, that sort of thing_," he said.

Magneto nodded again, "_I will come by in a couple of days to see how you are getting on_," he said, sounding uncertain, "_you are sure that there is nothing more that I can do for you right now_?

"_I'm sure_," Kurt told him. He watched him leave, and then went back to his room, and turned his attention back to his suitcase. He sighed, and began to unpack, putting his clothes in the wardrobe. Maybe I am just jetlagged, he thought. He did feel tired, his whole body seemed to be telling him that it was time to go to bed, but the sun was out, and it was clearly early afternoon. Perhaps that was what jetlag was, a feeling of mismatched signals concerning what he should be doing. He sighed quietly to himself again, and unpacked another pair of jeans.

It was too quiet. Back home, it was never this quiet. Whether it was his brothers and sisters arguing about whose turn it was to do the washing up, or just normal chitchat concerning what they would be doing at the weekend, the house was never completely silent. It unnerved Kurt, who desperately wanted to fill that silence, so he would not feel so lonely and homesick. He went towards the television, fiddled with the nobs for a moment, and was relieved when it came on, a cheesy jingle suddenly filling the room with – appropriately enough – an advertisement for American cheese. He went back to his suitcase, and continued unpacking. The weather forecast came on in the background, telling him that it would be a sunny afternoon, followed by a mild night, as Kurt finished putting his clothes into the wardrobe, and started to put his books onto the desk. Then there was an interview with a member of the HDL, and Kurt felt his ears literally and metaphorically prick up at that worrying term. He turned his full attention back to the television. There was a young woman being interviewed by a middle-aged man, and what she was saying started to make Kurt feel very nervous for his safety.

"…but they are in our schools, our workplaces, our shops, everywhere. They are a risk to our children, they can quite literally kill you just by looking at you. And you claim that these creatures are not a danger to real humans? How can you say that with a straight face? Why, only yesterday, there was a mutant attack down in Texas. Next time it could be you, your mother, your father, your daughter or your son, who could be attacked by one of these mutants."

"And what are you suggesting that we should do about this, Mrs Miller?" asked the middle aged man.

"We want to see that real people are protected. That means that this threat should be controlled, regulated, not allowed out in places where they could be a danger to our communities. Listen, in Britain they rarely have shootings in their schools. And do you know why? It is because they have some of the strictest gun control laws on the planet; you cannot even get a gun without filling out countless forms to show that you have a legitimate reason to own one, that you will be of no harm to yourself or others if you are an owner of a gun. Well, these mutants are essentially living guns. We want them to be controlled, only those that have proven themselves to be completely harmless to be allowed to interact with real people, otherwise they should be kept in places where they cannot harm humanity."

"Is it true that a member of your organisation has suggested that mutants should be locked up in prison?" asked the man.

"That is certainly one possibility for those that have not proved themselves to be harmless," she replied.

"Mrs Miller, there are those who claim, with I must admit some justification, that you cannot incarcerate people without due cause. This is America, the land of the free, this is not the kind of country where we imprison people without just cause."

"Of course, if they have proven themselves to be harmless, then there is no reason why they should not be allowed to conduct their lives as they see fit."

"There are some that claim that people are innocent until proven guilty, and that the idea of controlling people until they have proven that they are definitely not a threat goes against our human rights."

"But they are not human," she countered, "They have inhuman abilities. We just feel that we should not need to wait until we are attacked until we defend ourselves, and the rights of our children…"

Kurt turned the television off, but continued to stare at the blank screen. They're scared, he thought, and, despite her ranting, she does make a valid point, mutants are potentially dangerous. Strange, in his own way, Magneto did not seem all that much different from these Human Defence Leagueobsessives, and now Kurt had been thrust, against his will, into this mess. Kurt shook his head sadly, and then turned back to the map that Magneto had given him. Enough half-answers, he thought to himself. I've been dragged against my will half-way across the world, into a battle that I never wanted to get involved with; it's time I found out exactly what Magneto is up to, and why. With that, he put on his coat, picked up the map, and left the Brother Boarding House, a determined look on his disguised face.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 3 – Kurt of America_

**Author's notes – Happy New Year! Now for the first chapter of 2015. **_**Birusa**_** – thanks for the review. As requested, here is the next chapter. **

Kurt checked the map, and then examined his surroundings. It did not seem that far to the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, but he did not want to risk teleporting there, just in case. Teleporting somewhere that he had never been before was dangerous, and he had learned from bitter experience that teleporting was something that should only be attempted when there was little alternative. Besides, he wanted to get familiar with his surroundings, since he was apparently going to be in this place for quite some time. To his right there was a series of shops, and a bank at the corner of the road. That reminded him, he had to change his money into American currency, although that could wait until tomorrow. To his left there was a park, and it looked like cutting across that park would be the quickest – not to mention the most scenic – way in which he could reach his destination. He started to walk through the park, and, for the first time since arriving in America, began to relax a little, as he listened to the birds chirping in the trees. This reminded him a bit of a park back in Germany, the one where the circus had set up during the summer, and the place where Kurt had had his first, and so far only, paid work.

Although his parents had quite happily paid for all of his needs, Kurt had become frustrated with having to stay inside, having to stay hidden all of the time. This had only exacerbated when his oldest brother had got a Saturday job in a local bookstore, and his oldest sister had got a job waiting tables at a local coffee shop. Though they had both complained about the occasional customer that had been practically impossible to please, they had both claimed to generally love their work, their chance to share their knowledge, and to interact with the public in a friendly manner. Of course, earning their own money had helped immensely with their self-esteem, not to mention their financial independence. So Kurt had asked his parents if he could apply to do some similar work, only to be told, kindly, gently, but nevertheless firmly, that it was too dangerous. Kurt understood, but still felt frustrated. That was when his oldest sister had told them that the circus was coming to town, and that they were looking for someone who could work as a Magician's Assistant. She also claimed that she had overheard the conversation of the circus folk while she was giving them their drinks, and that they had said that they already had several mutants working for them, and would be quite prepared to employ another, as long as the mutant had the required skills, or was prepared to work hard to get those skills. Kurt had then pleaded with his parents to let him at least try, pointing out that, if the worst came to the worst and they did want to harm him, he could always use his recently acquired ability to teleport to get himself to safety. And so they had, with a little reluctance, agreed, and the next day he had gone to meet with the circus owner.

He need not have worried. She was an understanding lady, who had met, and indeed employed, many mutants at her circus. She did not care what Kurt looked like, just that he was willing to work hard. She had agreed to give Kurt a trial period of a week, to see if he was suited to the circus environment, and, just as importantly, to see whether or not the circus life was suitable for him. The next day, Kurt had started working as a Magician's Assistant, hiding in boxes and under trap-doors as a part of a magic trick. His parents had, understandably enough, been worried for his welfare, and so had been given tickets to come and see him as often as they wanted, and Kurt had always scanned the audience, knowing that few days would pass without at least one member of his family coming to watch him perform. He had assured them that the closest that he had ever gotten to being imprisoned in a cage had been hiding in one of the magic boxes, and that he was well looked after by all of the circus folk, who were quickly coming to see him as something of a mascot. And so, after the wonderful week of performing had passed, he had been really worried when the circus owner had asked to see his parents once more, claiming that she did not think that Kurt should be a Magician's Assistant any more.

Kurt had been devastated to hear that, wondering what he had done wrong, and if there was any way in which he could earn a second chance. But his fears had been alleviated, when the circus owner had told his parents that she felt that Kurt's talents were being wasted hiding away in boxes and under trap-doors, that he should be using his unique mutant abilities to entertain and awe the crowd – with extra money being paid to represent his increased responsibility of course – and then asked his parents if they would be willing for Kurt to train as an acrobat, to learn how to perform on the high wire and the trapeze, along with the other acrobats. Kurt had been really enthusiastic to learn these new skills, and his parents had proudly agreed, hugging Kurt so hard that he could hardly breathe.

And the next six weeks had been some of the happiest of Kurt's life, as he had learned the skills of being a circus acrobat, pushing his mutant talents to the limit, rather than limiting their use. Every night he had performed in front of the awed crowd, wowing them with his abilities, and he had quickly become the star performer of the show. Kurt had loved the attention, now that it was in safe environment, where he was doing what he truly loved, but not nearly as much as he had loved the proud look on the faces of his family members, when he had enthusiastically told them about the latest routine he had learned, or he saw them in the audience, their faces almost bursting with pride. It had been hard work, long hours with a great deal of time spent rehearsing, getting the technique exactly right, but Kurt had loved every minute of it, and had been disappointed when the time finally came for the circus to move on, to the next town, knowing that he could not go with them. But he had earned quite a lot of money in those wonderful few weeks, money that would no doubt prove useful now that he was in America, and now that he was disguised in a way which meant that he could spend it in the shops over here, just like any normal teenager.

"Hey, you!" Kurt heard a female voice call out, distracting him from his thoughts.

He looked down at himself quickly, suddenly afraid that his wonderful watch had failed, revealing his blue, fuzzy form to the world, but he was still his disguised self, still looked - for want of a better term – normal. "What?" he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

"You boy, shouldn't you be in school?" Kurt turned, to see a woman with long blonde hair, who was pushing a pram with a toddler in it. The woman came closer to Kurt, who quickly checked behind himself, to make sure that his tail was not visible.

Kurt smiled at her, "I just got here from Germany," he said, "I won't be starting school until Monday. I'm on a cultural exchange programme," he added, "learning more about America and visiting relatives. I'm going to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters right now, to get my papers and stuff…" Kurt's voice trailed off, and he wondered if it really was wise to tell a stranger so much information about himself.

"You are from Germany?" the woman asked.

Kurt nodded, "Bavaria to be exact," he said.

He watched her carefully. I hope she does not hate Germans, he thought to himself. There could be no denying that there had been a great deal of conflict between Germany and America over the last hundred years or so, even though the First World War, at least, had been as much about class conflict as conflict between nations. Still, old fears and hatreds had a nasty habit of lasting, and could unfortunately be passed down from one generation to another. He waited with bated breath, to see how the woman would respond.

"Oh, I love Germany!" she said enthusiastically, picking up the toddler, and cuddling her gently, "That's where they make cars and chocolate, right?"

"Um, among other things," Kurt muttered, watching her with a kind of bemused friendliness.

"You speak English very well," she said, turning her attention back to Kurt.

Kurt grinned at her, "Thanks," he said, "my favourite English word is 'parsimonious', there's something just so fundamentally funny about a complicated word meaning to keep things as simple as possible."

"I like labradoodle," the woman replied, "when I feel sad or upset, I just say 'labradoodle' over and over again, and when I have said it maybe eight or ten times, I always feel better." She turned her attention back to her toddler, "Labradoodle," she said, and the toddler laughed, "Labradoodle, labradoodle, labradoodle!"

Kurt grinned as he watched her. He had heard that Americans were generally friendly, and this lady certainly qualified, even if she was a bit strange. Still, he certainly preferred someone being a little bit eccentric, when compared to the HDL obsessives that he had recently heard about. "Um, excuse me," he said, as the lady continued to make her toddler laugh, "do you know the quickest way that I can reach the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters?"

The lady looked down at him, as though she had momentarily forgotten he was there, "Oh yes!" she said enthusiastically, "That's where gifted children go to school, where their special talents can be nurtured. It's not that far, just a little way further on from the park," she waved her hand in the general direction where Kurt had been heading, and then turned back to her toddler, "Labradoodle, labradoodle, labradoodle!" she said.

Kurt gave her a slightly bemused look, "Thank you," he said, before walking off in the way that she had indicated. Well, that was my first ever interaction with an American, he thought. He shrugged, and continued on his way. His watch seemed to be working, no one seemed to be paying him much attention as he made his way through the park; they would have surely noticed if his tail had been showing, or if they knew that he was in fact blue and furry. He started to relax once more. His knowledge about America came mostly from the films and television shows that he had watched back in Germany, which was also the main way in which he had learned English. Looking back, those films had been pretty silly, although he had enjoyed them immensely while he had been watching them. There was usually an all-American hero with a square jaw and perfect teeth, who had managed to save America, and possibly the world, from a threat such as aliens or some kind of monsters, which were keen on destroying America's landmarks with their impressive special effects. Looking around, there did not seem to be any monsters of any kind currently terrorising America, and no all-American hero just waiting to fight them. Of course, real problems were never as straightforward as that, always required a lot of thought and co-operation, never just the action of one hero coming along and saving everyone and then riding off into the sunset. And so Kurt's mind drifted back to the HDL, and what exactly they intended to do to mutants like him if they got the chance. He looked down at his watch, which was still nearly fully charged. What if it were to suddenly stop working, showing his real form to the world? Of course he could teleport to safety, but if someone were to see him as he really was, then there was always the possibility that they would want to find him, interrogate him or worse. It was a worry, and even with his mutant abilities, there was no guarantee that he would be able to reach safety.

He looked up, and saw that he had reached the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. This seemed to be a mansion, surrounded by gardens, and there was a swimming pool around the back of this mansion. He carefully walked around the place, examining the building. So this was a place for gifted youngsters, was it? Gifted in what way? Those with very high intelligences, musical and artistic ability and the like, or those with…different talents…mutant talents? Kurt shook his head. Well, not everything in the world was about mutants and after all, this could simply be a place where those with natural abilities learned to use them to their full potential. Still, if Magneto was involved in this Institute, there was a very real chance that it did have something to do with mutants.

Magneto's given me a whole bunch of half-answers, Kurt thought to himself, but I've been dragged here against my will, so I deserve to know the whole truth. And if he's not going to give it to me, then I'm just going to have to take it for myself! He looked down at his disguised self, nodding in satisfaction, since his watch was still hiding his true form, and then inched closer to the Institute. He intended to teleport onto the grounds of the Institute, and from there to look into one of the windows, to see what was inside, and then to hide, in the shadows, listening to those inside talking, until he found out information about what exactly Magneto was up to, and where he was located, and then he intended to teleport to wherever he was, and once again hide in the shadows, listening as Magneto talked to this Xavier person.

That had been the intention, but not what had actually happened. He teleported onto the grounds of the Institute, and the moment that he did so, alarm sirens started to sound, and what looked like a laser gun seemed to immerge from the ground, and aim itself at him. Kurt jumped back, and them teleported away as swiftly as he had come, hiding inside one of the nearby bushes as he got his breath back. "What _is_ this place?" he quietly asked of himself, as he watched Magneto emerge from the Institute, accompanied by a bald man in a wheelchair.

"…of course, that is a distinct possibility," said the man in the wheelchair, "nevertheless, Magneto, let us not forget that it was quite possibly a coincidence, and that there are any number of potential reasons for the alarm going off just at that moment."

Magneto snorted, "Any number of potential reasons why we should have been interrupted just when we were discussing issues concerning mutant safety and what needs to be done concerning this? Such as what, exactly?"

The man in the wheelchair sighed, "I do get your point, and as you say, it is a distinct possibility that someone was keen to interrupt our meeting for their own political agenda. But it could still have been nothing more than a coincidence, a cat managing to get into the wrong place at just that moment, or something similar."

"Mystique can turn herself into a cat," Magneto said. Both men looked at each other, sharing long and knowing looks. Kurt felt a desperate desire to get closer to them, to find out more, but was afraid to interrupt their conversation.

The man in the wheelchair sighed, "Indeed, but I can hardly see what she would have to gain by interrupting our conversation at this time. Besides, I hear that she is to meet with her son after finishing school. Tell me, how is Kurt?"

Kurt's ears pricked up upon hearing his name, and he leaned in closer, as Magneto replied, "It's hard to say for certain. The boy seems fairly well-adjusted, all things considered, especially considering that he is blue and furry. It seems that his adoptive parents have looked after him at least reasonably well. But he has been less than thrilled at the prospect of being forced to move all the way over here."

His companion sighed, "Understandable, given the circumstances, especially considering how little say Kurt has had in this. Besides, a sixteen year old boy is understandably rebellious and keen to push boundaries. I would recommend continuing to demonstrate understanding and sympathy towards his situation at this time."

Magneto shook his head, "Perhaps you are right, it can't be easy for the poor boy, and he must be under a lot of stress at the thought of meeting his real mother for the first time in over sixteen years. I would like to be a fly on the wall when that conversation happens," he added.

The man in the wheelchair looked down at his watch, "That should be happening pretty soon," he said, giving Magneto a small smile, "Mystique will have finished school by now, and should be nearly home at the Brotherhood Boarding House…"

Kurt turned his attention back to his own watch. He did not know what time school typically finished in America, but was pretty sure that his biological mother – this Mystique by the sound of it – would want him to be there waiting for him when she arrived back. Kurt mentally cursed himself for losing track of time, as he gave the two old men one more irritated glance, then teleported back to his room in the Brotherhood Boarding House.

There was someone in his room. This someone was going through his books, and turned around in shock when Kurt suddenly immerged in a cloud of foul smelling smoke. Kurt glared at him. He seemed to be about the same age as Kurt, but slightly smaller, and a there was rather unpleasant odour coming from him. He hopped aside when he saw Kurt, one of Kurt's books still under his arm. Kurt glared at him.

"Who're you?" the boy asked. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Kurt growled, "give me back my book!"

"This?" the boy looked at it, "_The Neverending Story_, say, wasn't that made into a film years ago?"

"Yes," said Kurt, "now give it back," he launched himself towards the boy, who hopped aside again like an amphibian, and began crawling up the nearest wall.

The boy opened the book, and began to look through it, "Hey, how come it's translated into German?" he asked.

"It was originally in German," Kurt said, teleporting to the ceiling and reaching a hand down to retrieve the book, "now give it back." Kurt grabbed the boy's smelly shirt, and both of them fell to the floor, as Kurt tried to retrieve his book, and the annoying boy tried to prevent him from doing so.

"Say, what are you anyway?" asked the boy as he grabbed Kurt's tail and examined the spade at the end of it. Kurt looked down and realised that his watch had fallen off in their fight. His companion could clearly see that he was blue and furry, with pointed ears and a tail. Kurt decided that questions could be asked later, and used his foe's momentary distraction to try and retrieve his book.

That had been the plan, anyway, but a moment later the boy had him on the floor once more, and they were fighting with each other, Kurt desperately trying to retrieve his book, and the other boy determined to keep it from him.

Then the door suddenly burst open, and a tall blue lady with red hair entered the room, and stared down at where Kurt was fighting with the other boy on the floor. "Good afternoon Kurt," she said, staring down at where the two boys had suddenly paused in their fighting, "I am Mystique, your real mother."


End file.
